Intoxicated
by Center of the Galaxy
Summary: Sam always knew that Jessica Moore would end up being the death of him. *Sam/Jess pre-series, hurt!Sam, worried!Dean, one-shot*
_**Author's Note:**_ _I love Sam and Jess. I adore them. I wish the show had given us more, but it is also fun to be able to write about them. This was written for the prompt, "Take My Breath Away" on Ohsam. Just a quick one shot._

* * *

" _In a room full of frozen faces,_

 _And a moment of fractured time,_

 _We eclipse in a conversation,_

 _As the words, they pass us by."_

— _The Cab, "Intoxicated"_

* * *

The first time he sees Jessica Moore, he's a freshman leaning against the wall of a crowded fraternity. He has a cup of lukewarm beer in his hand and he's waiting for Brady to hurry up so they can get out of here and back to the dorm. Sam's got an essay due tomorrow on the use of literary devices in _Romeo and Juliet_ and he hasn't exactly done much on it yet, though, again, that could be blamed on Brady. Sam's roommate, while kind and cheerful, is a bit of a poor student, choosing to spend his time attending parties and meeting girls.

"You should come with me, Sam. Stop sulking in our room. Get out and be social! C'mon, I'm going to one tonight, so come with me! Live a little, Sam!"

Which is how, Sam finds himself here, wondering where Brady is and how many more hours he'll need to spend to shape the essay and earn the "A" that he needs to bring his grade point average up. He's got plans to go to law school and he needs a certain GPA to even have a chance to—

"Sorry."

He feels a soft thud against his shoulder and he glances up and meets the prettiest cerulean eyes he's ever seen. In the low light, they seem to sparkle like stars and he feels himself drawn to them. It's then that he takes in the rest of her petite form. Her blonde hair is carefully arranged into a fishtail braid and her peach lips smile at him softly, summoning a comforting warmth that he hasn't felt since he left home.

This girl, whoever she may be, is safe. She's soothing.

She's home.

And with that realization, the breath whooshes from his lungs and it's funny, he's read about this, heard about how love at first sight could take your breath away, but he just assumed that he would never experience it. His life before Stanford, all that he's experienced, it's tainted him, changed him for what might be the best. The hunts, the all-consuming knowledge of knowing what goes on after dark, he can't shake them from his memories. What does he have to offer this girl? A fake past? Lies to fill in the gaps?

He could never be good enough for her. He would never be able to measure up to her surely high standards. Dean would say—

But Dean isn't here. He has to keep reminding himself that. Dean let Sam walk out the door without so much as a word and that's why Sam hasn't spoken to him, why Sam forces himself to not break down and call him in the middle of the night, when he's alone and scared and so, so lost in this huge university.

But Dean would tell him to go for it.

"I'm sorry." She repeats again, placing a cool hand on his shoulder as she steadies herself. Her touch is electric and it sends a shock down his spine and it feels like he hasn't lived until this moment and how can he go on without her? It would be a pale imitation of what he could have.

Could he let himself fall for her? Could he do the one thing his family taught him never to do—be vulnerable with a civilian?

He doesn't know who she is, but he loves her. He doesn't know why, but as sure as the fact that his lungs have frozen in his chest, he knows he loves her. This girl, this blonde beauty, is his future wife. He knows this as certainly as he knows the sun sets in the West each day.

Whoever this girl is, his destiny is now tied to hers.

"Jess!" Her companion calls to her from across the room and she flashes Sam another quick smile as she steps away from the wall and makes her way through the crowd. Sam finds himself transfixed, watching her until the crowd swallows her up and finally, his lungs begin to work again and he sucks in oxygen greedily.

"Sam?" Brady is beside Sam now, following his friend's gaze to the crowd. "What is it?"

"I met a girl." Sam's voice is rough, tongue heavy, and it's like he's never spoken before this moment.

"Yeah?" Brady raises his eyebrows as a sort of a _so what?_ gesture.

Sam beams, "I'm going to marry that girl."

Brady just laughs, dismissing his roommate's claims.

"I'm serious," Sam insists sharply. "That girl is my future wife."

"I think you've had too much to drink, Sam—"

"You don't get it," Sam shakes his head, wishing Brady could understand the experience he just had, the absolute certainty he now has in his future. He doesn't know what he'll tell her about his past, but he does know that without her, he has no future. "I'm going to marry her."

"Why?" Brady challenges, "What makes that girl so special."

Sam just whispers, "She took my breath away."

* * *

The last time he sees Jessica Moore, he's in his senior year at Stanford, lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and she's screaming, blood dripping from her stomach. She's being burned alive and all Sam can do is stare and the oxygen in the room soon becomes syrupy and then, as she's engulfed in flames, Sam's lungs stop completely.

He wants to scream. He wants to pull her down and save her.

He wants to die.

The fire is so hot and he wonders briefly is this is it, if this is his last moment on Earth and he wonders what Dean will do when he's dead and nothing more than ash.

God, Dean.

They'd just been starting to be a family again. Sure, Sam wanted no part of the hunting life, but he couldn't lie that sitting shotgun in the Impala with his brother by his side felt right.

But now, it's all over.

Jess is dead, Sam is dying and there's nothing more to do.

Just close his eyes and wait for the inevitable.

But it doesn't come. When he opens his eyes again, he's lying on the stretcher of an ambulance that has rescued him and there's an oxygen mask over his mouth, but his lungs are still locked, and he's dizzy and he wants to sleep—

"Breathe, Sammy, c'mon!" Dean's voice rings in his ears and though the EMT's are working on him, the youngest Winchester knows that Dean must be panicked.

He came back, that registers in Sam's mind. Dean came back for him. He does still care, after all.

"More oxygen," The matronly nurse smiles down at Sam, trying to reassure him as she adjusts his oxygen intake. "He's starting to go into shock."

The EMT's are a flurry of activity above him, but Sam can only stare at Dean, who is pacing at the distance that the emergency response workers have demanded he keep and it's funny, even though he's dying, Sam's not worried. He's numb, almost to everything.

Jessica is dead.

Sam is dying.

But Dean is alive. And he came back for his little brother. He came back after four years of silence, after the harsh words he and Sam exchanged, he came back for Sam. That gives Sam a bit of a respite.

"C'mon breathe!" Dean's voice filters in through Sam's greying vision as the lack of oxygen saps away his strength. He's fading fast and it's funny, Sam always knew Jessica would do this to him.

After all, like Sam told Brady all those years ago, Jessica stole his breath away the first moment they met.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_ _More Sam/Jess stuff will be coming your way soon. I have a few plot bunnies bouncing around in my mind. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!_


End file.
